Buon San Valentino: ChibItalia x HRE
by JustAnotherFangirlAtHeart
Summary: Of corse, time has passed since the news. Everyone likes to twist this truth, but was it ever the truth to begin with? Valentines Day special
1. Chapter 1

**Buon San Valentino**

_ChibItalia and HRE: Chapter One_

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**I don't own Hetalia (;-;)**

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A messy bed sat amidst a dark room, with only a window showing the clouded morning sky. What ever was in the bed, rustled the covers. Feet moved to dangle over the bed, followed by a muddled head of short, rusty hair. With a yawn, the figure got up, getting dressed in a simple, green maids dress. It brushed it's hair before putting on a white bandana over it's hair. This was followed by the brushing of teeth, and the washing of it's face. It quickly read the calendar, showing "February 13th".

The figure stepped out for it's room, allowing some light to show the figure out. This figure appeared to be female, a young one at that. She looked left, then right, before going left. As she walked, the lighting in the house became more brilliant, allowing more of her features to be seen. The poor thing had black circles under her eyes, with drooping eyes above them. Her dress was wrinkled far beyond repair, and even if she did brush her hair, it stayed a mess.

The young female continued walking down the hall, passing by multiple objects like paintings, vases, and pillars that hung or accompanied the walls. Soon, the hall came to a clearing; she had found herself in the dinning area. Seated at the table was a female with brown hair, accompanied by a dark brown haired man. They both read their own newspapers, until they acknowledged the little lady.

"Why, good morning, Italy." the man greeted. "Your breakfast is ready, its next to Miss. Hungary." He waved his hands over to the empty seat, waiting for Italy to sit down. She sat down, holding up her spoon. The bowl contained still warm oatmeal with wild berries. Italy dug in, enjoying the meal. Upon finishing the dish, the older female spoke up.

"Good morning," Hungary started, "I hope you slept well, for once, Miss. Italy. Same for you, Mr. Austria." Italy first sighed, knowing "she" was really a boy. Yet he nodded "her" head awkwardly, knowing he was lying. Both of the older countries looked at the younger, and frowned. "Please, be honest." Hungary begged. With a sigh, Italy shook his head. He put his hands to his face, and tried not to start crying in front of his family.

Mr. Austria spoke up next, "I… I understand, Italy… But please, you need to try to get over… that fact." The old, male country was starting to choke on his words, he himself, not being able to get over "that fact". Italy looked up for his hands, only to show tears burning on his cheeks. Hungary gasped, quickly getting up to comfort the female. Austria only hung his head in shame of worsening the situation.

"Please, stop crying Italy… Its hard on us all…" Hungary began tearing up herself. The whole table was in a gloomy atmosphere, and was about to burst at any second if provoked further. Noticing this, Mr. Austria left the table, following by Miss. Hungary after giving Italy a quick hug. The younger country stayed, and sobbed.

It felt like hours until evening came for Italy. He ended up staying in his room, and it didn't seem like this was a first. The leaders of the house-hold didn't dare disrupt the weakened country, but kept an eye and ear open all the time. They suffered almost as much as their underling, yet the young male defiantly suffered the most.

Italy had made it past just a friendship with this unmentioned country, and he had left for war. The only news they got was of his death. It broke everyones heart hearing his story. Nothing really mattered to Italy anymore, unless it was pasta. Yet sometimes pasta came to second place after sorrowing over the missed country.

Nothing was the same for months, aside the fact that Italy kept cleaning the home every second day or so. It must have preoccupied the country from his sorrow, but he came across many items and objects that screamed this country's name.

After the young nation had laid down in his girly pyjamas, the pillow was like a button for sleep; it came fast. Sleep was something uncommon for Italy, but crying all day was quite tiring. For him, it was a dreamless night.

It was the next morning, with the sun shining through Italy's window. As the country got up, he smiled. Something told him it was going to be a great day. Getting up once again, he repeated his previous morning routine. Everything felt bright and bouncy, full of life. The halls were illuminated with sunlight, while it reflected on the occasional vase.

Italy skipped down the hall, a small smile plastered onto his face. He passed the paintings, vases, pillars, and brush broom once again. It was as if the world was truly alive. Once again, he came to the dinning room. The two older country's noticed his smile, and returned it.

"I assume today is better, so far?" Hungary asked. Italy nodded with enthusiasm, sitting down for "her" meal. It was a wheat-filled cereal with semi-warmed milk. Italy ate it at a normal pace, but it was downed in under three minutes.

Hungary and Austria were trying to hold back heartily giggles and smiles. They knew something that Italy didn't… and it seems it meant to be quick the shocker. Just before they would burst from holding their excitement in, Italy got up from the table, and left to go start cleaning. The duo let their laughs eco through the dinning room, just distant from the young countries ears.

"I can't wait to tell Italy, or for her to see for herself!" the female country yipped, jumping over to Austria, strangling him in a hug.

"C-Calm down… and please l-let go…" Austria asked. She let go, while the male dusted the non excitant dust off his pants. "I'm just as happy and excited, Miss Hungary." He smiled, then left for his office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Buon San Valentino**

_ChibItalia and HRE: Chapter Two_

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**I don't own Hetalia (;-;)**

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Italy was cleaning a window near to the back porch, while admiring the sun that reflected off the previously cleaned windows. Something was defiantly making the world rotate for the dear country. The wind was light, making the bells on the porch sing for the cleaning Italy.

The country finished his cleaning just after four pm, just in time for some free time before dinner. Italy walked back inside, grabbing a canvas, some paint, and other supplies for painting. He walked back outside, heading over to a bushy area surrounding the house. Italy set everything down, and sighed, putting another smile on his face. The country took out a paint brush, and began painting, humming a light, bouncy tune.

A background was being made of greens and yellows. This was followed by the colours of black, more greens, blues, reds, and pale yellows. The painted started to take form, showing two figures of young humans, both smiling under a sun. One wore all black; hat, cape, shirt, and pants, while the other resembled Italy.

After an hour passed, Italy stepped back to admire the work of art. It made the country smile wider, almost outshining the sun. He sat down, soaking in the sun, and almost fell asleep. It seemed he did, anyways. It caught him off guard, but everything was better when you're well rested.

Italy had been laying in the meadow for half an hour, when a figure similar to the other in the painting. He wore only black cape, but was the tiniest bit taller. The boy gasped upon seeing the scene before him. His face went unchanging from his shadow-hidden face, and stood before the painting the sleeping boy had painted. He starred at it,recognizing himself in the painting. The figure in now more modern clothing dashed for the house, leaving the boy in the meadow.

The boy returned with a brush broom, and stood it up against the the beautiful painting. With a whispered good bye, he looked at the sleeping boy, not showing any emotion, and left for the opposite direction of the house.

Italy had woken up, stretching and yawning. The sun had slowly sunken lower into the ground, night approaching. He got up, dusting of the dress he was forced to wear. With a light sigh, the young country walked over to his painting, collecting the canvas and supplies. Before he was finished, he froze; there was a broom that was new to this scene. Italy recognized it, and began to cry.

"W-Who put this h-here?!" the sorrowful country yelled. Was this some kind of joke? … Or was he really back? Italy couldn't decide, yet this day was in his favour, so… he really could be? He pondered on the thought, and walked back to the house, paint and canvas in hand.

Looking at the clock, it was around six thirty pm. Just in time for dinner with his 'family'. Italy walked into the dinning room once again, and found that the food was waiting to be eaten. The one thing that was missing were the adults. It was a special day today; it seemed they might have forgotten…. Hungary and Austria were not in the dinning room, nor in the kitchen, but food was sitting out for Italy.

Shrugging it off, Italy ate his food in silence. Even when he finished, the others didn't come to join him. He waited for another four minutes till there was a knock from around the corner that led to the hallway. Italy got up from his seat, to find no one there.

Sighing, he went back to his seat, and played with his empty dish. Italy felt so alone, so vulnerable. The day started out great, but now it was fading out from its once brilliance. The country kept a smile on his face, though. Italy told himself that things would get better; nothing bad could be going on. … Right?


	3. Chapter 3

**Buon San Valentino**

_ChibItalia and HRE: Chapter Three_

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**I don't own Hetalia (;-;)**

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Italy leapt from his seat, out to the hallway, dashing for Mr. Austria's office. When he reached it, it was locked from outside. Holding his breath, he unlocked it, and turned the doorknob. No one. Nothing. Yet… what was he so worried about anyways? Was his anxiety coming back, this soon? After one nice sleep, night, and day, its back?! Now he was angered at himself, not knowing what to do any more.

His thoughts were jumping left and right, scattering his only sanity left. He barely remembered what today was through all this mess in his head. A day special to mainly the country named Italy. The fourteenth of February… He and this unnamed country share this day once, before it turned to the mix of exhausting emotions in his head. Thats when the melt down came. Italy fell to his knees, letting his eyes gush tears.

Just before the country had time to get up, something tapped his shoulder. He turned around to face a figure about his hight, that had shaggy blond hair, with the beam of deep blue eyes below. A black cape hung from his neck, with no wind to make it whip around. Italy gasped at the sight, then blinked a few times. Sadly, it had disappeared.

Italy got up, and ran to his room, leaving a trail of tears behind him. He locked the door was quickly as he slammed it shut, and hid under his bed's covers. Night was only minutes away, so he fell into slumber, with dreams of undesirable memories.

The auburn haired country woke up, but never left his room. As for the older countries, they waited outside his locked door. "W-What happened? Did s-she see him, o-or… What?" Hungary was at a loss, and Austria had no idea either. "Should… should we just tell her?" the female asked the male. He nodded, and they left, waiting for Italy to come out of his room.

It wasn't until noon that Italy came out from his room, with black circles under his amber eyes once again. He walked out to the dinning room like he would every morning. His eyes were focused on his feet, dragging them as he walked. Italy sat down in his chair, and heard gasps from two… wait, three… people. Italy looked straight up, his eyes meeting the boy's he saw the other evening.

"I-Italia…" it said in a hushed tone. Italy recognized this person; Holy Roman Empire… Right? He got up, and headed over to the new addition to the table. Hungary and Austria were smiling like fools, as was the one in the black cape. "… I'v missed you… so so much, Italia…" he mumbled.

"I-I have… too, Holy Rome…" Italy responded with a smile. The boy placed a hand on Holy Rome's, making both of them blush. "B-But…" he left that word hanging for a minute of silence. "Is i-it really you?" Italy asked. holy Rome nodded, and smiled.

The welcomed nation received a hug, and had more to say. "Y-You do remember… what day it was yesterday, yes?" HRE questioned Italy. He thought, but not for long, until his smile widened. Italy nodded, and let Holy Rome go from his hug.

Italy then spoke up. "What… what gift do your people give to their loved ones?" he giggled. HRE blushed, but didn't respond. "H-holy Rome?" Italy was getting worried. The older countries then left, allowing them some personal time together. Just after, Holy Rome leaned over to Italy's ear.

"Same as from your place…" the boy responded. Before Italy could react, Holy Rome's lips met Italy's. Time had frozen over for the two, while the world melted. Italy was right the other day; the world was rotating just for him… make that them. There was peace, finally, in Italy's head. Things could be the way it was before he left, before the world stopped rotating.

HRE broke the kiss, and Italy was blushing like mad, but his colours were nothing compared to the other boy's. Ruby or tomato red was blown out of the water for comparison. And just like times before Holy Rome left, Italy began running away, while the other followed in pursuit. Yet after a minute of running, Holy Rome stopped. Italy kept going, not looking back, not caring if HRE did catch him.

The boy with the black cape turned around, sighing. He left for the meadows, sitting down where he found Italy sleeping the other day. The sun had passed high noon, but still shined clean from the Earth. HRE laid down, and closed his eyes.

With stiffened sobs, Holy Rome talked to thin air, "… How am I to keep t-this up… when I don't… know a-anything more than… what Hungary h-has told me…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Buon San Valentino**

_ChibItalia and HRE: Chapter Four_

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**I don't own Hetalia (;-;)**

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HRE continued to cry, mumbling odd scenarios to himself. There was Italy figuring out his act, or he himself just telling Italy. Hungary could rat him out, or even Austria. the possibilities were endless, but most ended up with either Italy running away, or being heart broken. Holy Rome continued to think, with no good ending for them passing through his mind.

With a sigh of defeat, the blond got up, wiping his tears away with his cape. He collected himself, then went back to the house. Entering the back door, he knew Italy wouldn't be around any time soon. At least, Holy Rome hoped. HRE passed the dinning table, where he met Italy, when he got back. It only made him sadden more, because Italy seemed like a nice girl, but… He doesn't remember…

It was then that he heard small, light foot steps coming from around the corner. Not ready to see her again, he bolted back outside. Holy Rome peeked throughout the window to observe Italy, to make sure she was ok. Italy looked left and right, then pouted.

"I swore I heard someone in here… I hoped it was Holy Rome… ugh, I need to stop hoping…" he mumbled, shaking his head in frustration. Italy then left the empty room for the back door.

"Ugh," the blond started, "how cliché?" HRE got up from his sitting position at the window, and ran back around front. He got in through the front door, and headed to Austria's office. Upon arriving at his office, Austria came around the corner.

Eyes widened, the older country greeted, "Oh, hello, what brings you here, Holy Roman Empire?" Holy Rome started to explain his situation to him, and Austria understood. He ushered the younger country into his office to talk in private. It was then that Italy peeked his out around a corner that led to the office space.

"So, um, what c-can you offer to do t-to help me, Mr. Austria?" Holy Rome asked. With a sassy sigh, Austria turned to face the speaker, his hands holding a small, leather-covered book. "… I assume that is a scrap book with photos?" HRE guessed. The older country nodded, and handed it to him.

Holy Rome opened it to the first page, and stared at the first photo. Hungary surely must have organized it, because the first photo was of Italy and himself sharing their, what had to be, first kiss. Even as he stared at this old photo, nothing came back to him. He flipped the page, observing more photos. Some where taken in the meadow that he found Italy sleeping in earlier, and some in the house. Holy Rome kept flipping through the pages, nothing coming back to his memory. Tears formed, anger and frustration flowing through them.

"Why can't I remember?" he yelled. Austria wasn't surprised by the looks of it, but backed away a bit. HRE tried to calm down, but nothing worked. "I just need to remember! I don't want to … to hurt Italy … again… never again!" The tears only came down more furiously, and he himself didn't know why. It was like his brain was battling to get it's precious memories back. "I don't remember, but I… I feel lost and… at peace at the same time… around her… Its all one big mess…" The country was soon on his knees.

Italy had been staring at the office door from some time now, not knowing wether to investigate or leave it be. He didn't know who was in there besides Austria, but some one was, and they seemed to be breaking down like he did the other day. Taking his chances, Italy headed over to the door, and knocked.

The blond heard the knock, and stiffened his sobs. He only hoped it was Miss. Hungary… Austria then got up, and snuck outside the office, leaving HRE alone. The older country found himself facing his underling, a curious and caring look in his eye. "Who's crying?" "she" asked.

"Oh, don't mind him…" Austria said, while Italy's eyes widened at the "him". "Holy Roman Empire is just tr-" He cut himself off before exposing the some-what well kept secret. "… Is just so glad he is back." Austria finished, sighing of relief. Italy nodded, asking if he could come in to see him.

Before Austria's open mouth could get words out, a crashing came from the office. Austria immediately ran into the room, followed by Italy, both of them with worried looks on their face. Papers were every where, a small wind blowing from the window. The curtains fluttered, and occasionally catching on the window… which was broken. Italy gasped, and let silent tears roll down his cheeks.

"D-Does… he not like me anymore?" Italy asked no one in particular. With out a second thought, he ran at the window, climbed up, and thought the broken window in pursuit of his one and only.


	5. Chapter 5

**Buon San Valentino**

_ChibItalia and HRE: Chapter Five_

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**I don't own Hetalia (;-;)**

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Austria was just starting to understand the situation, when Italy leaped through the window, leaving the older country to question. "What to do…" he murmured. With a shrug, he sat back down, letting the two settle it on their own.

Back to the pursuit, Holy Rome got the advantage and speed he needed to get away. Knowing Italy's repetitive actions, she was bound to be chasing him. Yet, due to his memory loss, HRE had no idea where to go. Assuming the meadow was good enough, and maybe to venture further, he headed for it. It was only seconds before he reached his destination, and paused to get some of his breath back.

"H-Holy… Rome?… Are y-you…. there?" he heard, with sobs and excessive inhaling between the words. Hitching his own breath, he began running once again, but from the outskirts of his memory of the gardens.

Holy Rome was continuing his run until he tripped; into water. Gasping, once out of the water, he found himself on the shore of a small, shallow stream. With a grunt of effort, he got himself out of the stream, and took off his shoes.

The young country started walking across the stream, only tripping another two times. His name was called out again, each time repeated, the less hope found in the tone. Its as if that old saying was right, "The third times the charm", because HRE tripped once again. The only thing that was included with the fall, was darkness.

Italy kept searching, calling his name, but with no response. He was getting exhausted, and his tears didn't help the situation. Why does this always happen? Nothing has been normal for him and Holy Rome, especially after he left for war. It was like the world only wanted a new reality drama TV show, and picked them to be the stars.

"She" tried calling HRE once again, but the silence only repeated its self. With a desperate cry of hurt, Italy trudged forward, not wanting to give up. Both of them were quite the clumsy little counties, so he didn't want to take any chances.

Italy tried the meadow, and proceeded to the stream. Oh, how that stream had hurt him. Memories were made, lost, and yet to be made at this one location. It wasn't far to Italy, he only wanted to be happy, without pain or hurtful pasts. Seems that that wish was not one to come true. Yet, did it ever for anyone? Was there anyone wishing that same wish?

Finding himself too deep in thought, Italy shook his head, trying to clear his head. In that muddle of mind, he had arrived at the stream. Italy whispered his friends name, having doubts there was be a new response.

Checking left and right, the young country sighed. Should he really continue? The other boy was the tiniest bit faster than himself, so you never know how far he could have ran. In a feat of sleep and giving up, Italy sat down on a small tree stump that lay next to the stream. Kicking off his shoes, he held up his dress, and stepped into the water.

Italy gave off soft giggles, playing with the wet sand that danced between his toes. His mind began to relax, yet never let go of his thoughts of HRE. The young country pranced through the water, going against the current. Italy stopped near a small, blue rock, inhaling, then going under to try to pry the rock out.

Searching with his hands, he touched something soaking and heavy instead of a rock. Italy burrowed his eyebrows together, grabbing the object, then surfacing. He rubbed his eyes clear of water, and stared at the object; a boot; a black, tall, boot. Italy started questioning why a boot would be in the stream. Sure, things got in the stream, but who would throw a boot in?

As he quizzed the possibilities, something tapped his knee from the on going current. taken out of his thoughts, he bent down, grabbing the object. It was the other boot. He now had a pair. Geez, these were a nice, clean, expensive, fashionable, small, recognizable, memo-… Holy Roman Empire's. Eyes wide, he began calling out for HRE, worried much more that at first.

It appeared that it always ended up being a chase scene for these two, if it was due to hurt, or just being the kids they were. Yet this was a first, Holy Roman Empire was out of his sight, and possibly harmed. In any other cases, they were always close enough to see each other, and there was never a threat of harm.

After thinking back on pervious chases, Italy was checking all along the stream, but mainly from where the boot came from. He headed up stream once again, eyes open for any black cloth. Yet, sleep was getting to him, as was the elements, but this country didn't give in.

The stream was becoming steeper, and quicker. Italy looked along the sides, not sure about going into the strong current. After the seconds counted down, he tried the middle of stream, cautiously. He had to hold onto a few rocks to keep him on his feet. Rock after rock, he felt like giving up; this was no easy task for humans or countries his size.

A big, black rock was next for him to grab. Italy took a step closer, hand ready to hold onto it once he let go of the rock behind him. Counting down, he did as planned; it felt mushy, it felt soaked. It was not something easy to grip. "How is this a rock?" Italy thought. His grip was depleting, and wished it wasn't, but whatever it was, started groaning and stirring as it lay in the current.

Thinking things through, Italy realized how likely it was that what was before him is Holy Rome. "H-Holy Rome…?" Italy cried. It stirred again, this time flipping to face the young country. Mumbling in pain, it was HRE, but unconscious.


End file.
